


Calthazar (AU)

by tiptoeingwayfinder



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Calthazar, M/M, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:13:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiptoeingwayfinder/pseuds/tiptoeingwayfinder





	Calthazar (AU)

Balthazar paced absently in his living room, mind working furiously. Where could Castiel be? He knew the answer but prayed it wasn't true. A prophet foretold long ago that someday Castiel would leave him to affiliate with the rot of creation--humans. Balthazar had hoped and prayed since The Beginning that it wouldn't be true, and he thought maybe it had worked--until he met the Winchesters.  
Castiel flew into the house and started to greet Balthazar when Balthazar looked down and asked in an even, measured voice, "Where have you been, Castiel?" Castiel's eyebrows furrowed and he answered, "I've been saving people, Balthazar." Balthazar looked at him and said, "Really, Cas? Is that why you reek of that Impala?" Castiel flinched and then sighed, looking down, "Balthazar, must you be so jealous?"  
Balthazar slammed his fist against a wall, turning on Cas. "Must I, Castiel? Must I be JEALOUS? I am concerned for you. You're spinning out of control and you're the only one who can't see it. You won't realize it until you're too far gone. You'll lose your grace, Castiel, and I won't stick around to watch that." Balthazar ffelt hands on his shoulders and then Castiel was holding his face and looking at him with impossible blue eyes. "Balthazar," Cas wrapped his arms around him and waited until Balthazar looked at him, "I am and will always be yours." He kissed Balthazar's forehead and disappeared to the bedroom. Balthazar sat down and began writing to keep his thoughts at bay.  
Hours later when he finally finished writing, Balthazar went to their bedroom only to find Castiel gone. His head dropped and he sunk to his knees next to his bed and opened his mouth, a shuddering breath escaping his lungs, "Father, please, " he prayed fervently, "Please change Castiel's heart. I-," suddenly his body was wracked with sobs, "I need him, Father, Help him see what he's doing. Bring him back to me, please, I beg you." He felt no relief as he climbed into his bed. Although he never slept, he suddenly felt so weary he laid on his side and curled his knees up to his chest, shutting his eyes and feeling his worries and suspicions take over his body. His stomach dropped; his heart physically hurt at the thought that Castiel might not come back.  
He laid there until morning light faded through the window above him. Even in Heaven the light yields to darkness but darkness will always yield to light; that is, except for Balthazar's personal darkness. The door opened and Castiel crept inside, pausing when he noticed Balthazar who, for once, was in bed. "Oh," Castiel said, jarred, "I thought you'd still be writing." Balthazar looked up and shook his head, "I finished." Castiel came and sat down next to Balthazar--as much as Balthazar tried not to notice--smelling like that damn Winchester, and this time he'd been gone all night. "Castiel, you cannot think you can be gone all night and come home smelling like that and think I won't care." Cas sighed and started to speak but Balthazar couldn't bear this any longer. "You don't care though, do you? That's right, Castiel, because you never care about anyone's feelings or desires but your own. Oh, wait, I'm mistaken--you care about those damned Winchesters, don't you? Look, Cas, I've had enough. Either give up this poisonous dream or don't bother coming back."  
Castiel's eyes showed every emotion--betrayal, anger, but ultimately a broken heart. He disappeared from beside Balthazar and immediately Balthazar broke. He truly felt the emptiness of that bed, of the whole house. He couldn't stand his empty heart, and it would always be empty without Castiel. He stumbled out of the room and found his notebook, opening it to his stopping point: the final chapter.

Castiel walked through the door to their home with flowers, smiling brilliantly. He would do everything he could to repair his relationship with Balthazar and explain the situation. He walked through the hallways and called out, "Balthazar? Balthazar! Where are you?" He looked in the bedroom and the living room, but no Balthazar. "Oh," Cas thought, "He's probably in his study. He opened the study door and said, "Hey, Bal-," he froze in shock. Balthazar was there, yes, but blood covered his arms and chest. His notebook was spatters across it and the angel's sword was on the ground, coated in Balthazar's blood. Castiel's flowers hit the floor and he rushed to Balthazar's side, a chorus of no's escaping his lips; Balthazar wasn't dead, he just couldn't be. He pressed his fingers against Balthazar's neck. Nothing. A tear escaped Castiel's eye, and then the dam broke. How could he be so careless, to bring Balthazar to this point? How could he have gone so long without explaining anything to him? He tried to tell himself that it wasn't his fault, that Balthazar hadn't given him the chance to explain, but he knew it was a lie.  
Castiel looked down at Balthazar's mysterious notebook; Balthazar had never let Cas read it. It was face-open, very near the last page. Castiel touched the smooth, blood stained pages and looked at Balthazar's beautiful calligraphy. The page opened with, "Dear Castiel," Castiel froze. Did he dare read this? No. He couldn't; not yet. He had to clean up Balthazar's study. He gingerly picked up the body, but as he picked it up it disappeared from sight or existence. He let more tears drop and went to grab water and towels. He could clean it up like most angels, but this time he wanted to clean up his mess himself.  
He returned with warm water and a washcloth, but his cleaning equipment didn't prepare him for seeing the blood again. He held back the stinging tears and rushed to clean off Balthazar's giant oak desk and all his favorite books. He cleaned faster than he had originally planned, but this turned out to be a little bit too much to handle. He was never good at cleaning up his own messes, despite how good he was at cleaning up after other people.  
After all the blood was gone, he took the heavy, leather-bound notebook and went to the living room to read. He looked at the last page, took a deep breath, and began.

Dear Castiel,  
I'm afraid this is the end of our journey, darling. Of course, this is exactly what I wrote this book for. I knew this would happen, and I knew I wouldn't be able to bear it. But a prophet of our Father told me that it would be so, so I will hope it is for a good cause. This book, though, my darling, is every reason you are wonderful. Every reason I can think of for why you shouldn't blame yourself. Reasons this isn't your fault. Reasons God trusts you. Reasons I trust you. Reasons I love you, and so does He. I know you're part of a much greater plan than I ever was, Castiel, and I'll be damned if I'm going to hinder you from reaching your full potential. This is the only true way I could prevent that from happening. I know you'll try to blame yourself and hate yourself and fix what's broken, but this book consists of every reason you should move on and live the life you're supposed to live. Live the life our Father desires, Castiel, so that I do not die in vain. And never forget this: I always have been, and always will be yours. I love you.  
Balthazar

Castiel shut the book and refused to open it again for some time. He spent days lying in that haunted house, trying to think of how Balthazar thought he could make this any better by dying. He thought about every possible reason and every single one came up blank. And then he read the notebook. He poured over it, he wept over it, and he laughed over it. He couldn't explain Balthazar sometimes, but he knew that he would forever be Balthazar's, and that beautiful angel would never leave his mind. Castiel put the notebook in his trenchcoat and disappeared from the house, never to return.


End file.
